


Fervor of The Father

by silly_bone



Series: zodiark says its my turn with the ascians [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Blood and Injury, Bloodplay, Body Horror, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Enthusiastic Consent, M/M, Minor Character Death, Painplay, Possession, Self-Destruction, Sexual Content, no betas i die like the clown i am
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:01:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22113004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silly_bone/pseuds/silly_bone
Summary: Is it in the way He called his name? Or is it in the way he made him pray?Oh, but the wheel is turning, it's really turning now.
Relationships: Elidibus/Zodiark (Final Fantasy XIV)
Series: zodiark says its my turn with the ascians [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1590529
Comments: 6
Kudos: 12





	Fervor of The Father

**Author's Note:**

> i barely edited this sorry rip

“Would you die for Him?”

It was a gentle inquiry made against the searing flesh of the candidate’s neck. The Emissary’s beak scratched the tender skin with little intention from the paragon. Nay, it was the pledge’s own desire that he writhed in the glorious influence of their God. Of the subject’s own volition did he press, arching into lips and beak alike with abandon. The mask bit, finding purchase and sunk in at the lamb’s insistence. Keening in bliss as blood welled to the surface, it mattered not if it stained the Emissary’s mask; the evidence would not show.

“Would you?” He repeated, urging out a response.

“Yes,  _ yes _ ,” the pledged hissed, urgent and reckless.

Elidibus smiled against sweet flesh. His claws curled, pricking the bare skin of the candidate’s shoulder. Savoring the delightful hitch in the rasping breath that filled the otherwise vacant space, the Emissary knew better than to indulge just yet. The time had yet to come but he could not deny the temptation of a responsive and hungering vessel; a most promising candidate for their God.

“He would not ask for your death,” the favored whispered, stilling the trembling vessel with soft promises. “He would ask for your life.”

“I would give my life. I  _ will _ give my life,” he breathed these reassurances without hesitation, writhing in vain against unseen restraints. A will not his own, nor the Emissary’s, anchored him now, binding him firm against the base of the crystalline structure. Due to be rewarded for such rampant devotion, Elidibus lingered momentarily, delighting in the squirming that was yet allowed. Such greed was unbecoming yet he entertained it, raking his claws along the man’s shoulder and down his arm, cherishing the shameless whine it drew out.

The Emissary withdrew then, beak drawn from flesh and eliciting a sudden impassioned cry. The lamb’s blood flowed steady and slow as it painted a path down his neck. This would-be host was beautiful. Entirely unremarkable;  _ undeserving  _ as the fragmented were, his allure originated from a soul that burned. His passion disregarded self-preservation, a trait which made itself known in the various marks that marred his bare flesh. Wounds that seeped and discolored, each and everyone of them issued at the vessel’s whim and received in rapture.

Saturated as he was, intoxicated by the influence of their God, his willingness transcended into fanatical desire. Creeping closer to the edge of restraint, it was impressive he yet kept from begging and pleading out-right. Compliant and eager, his mind retained a measure of decency however his body so boldly betrayed him. With skin flushed pink and slick with sweat, the candidate that their God would come to claim stared up at the Emissary with reverence that befit the position he took on his knees. So dedicated to please was the vessel that he cared not that his arousal was on display, stiff between parted thighs. There would be no shame within promised flesh.

Delaying the ascension no further, Elidibus raised his hands aloft and bid welcome. The torrent which surged from stagnation unrestrained by his counsel alone, all that was and would be coursing through liminal space, grazing past the Emissary in tender fondness before encircling the offering presented to Him in appraisal. He could not grant allowance where it was unnecessary; His God needed none. And yet Zodiark deferred to  _ him _ in this instant _ ,  _ a terribly gratifying selection. Elidibus would not disappoint and with absolute confidence did he deem the body prepared.

Evaluation proved taxing for the vessel, his chest heaving as he searched in vain to see the influence that ensnared him. An impetuous whine echoed into the expanse, trembling in their God’s slack grasp. He yet lacked the sight, robbed of the bewitching brilliance of mingling aether that came of the scrutiny and for that alone did Elidibus extend a token of sympathy, an assurance.

“You have not the sight yet you will come to see.”

A broken little compliant was his response, needful and aching as he choked out, “I- I want.”

“You will want for  _ nothing _ .”

A promise made and one that all present knew well it would be kept. It appeased the lamb, settling his restless squirming and prompting a sweet smile to cross his features in acceptance. It was in this instance that his God concluded analysis and passed verdict. The sudden compression of aether tore a gasp from the vessel, his eyes widening in sudden anticipation. The sacrifice had been judged and deemed acceptable in the eyes of their God.

The process began in proper.

Seized as if between teeth, the offering’s writhing renewed in frenzy under the relentlessness of His affections. All that He was seeking to become all that the vessel could be. In his assimilation, the body did naught but gasp in ecstasy. The unseen maw closed gradually around tender flesh, pressing in and sinking deep. Rigid muscles spasming as His will overtook, pooling into the vessel and filling until nothing else remained. Head thrown back in finality, his lips parted to gasp and plead in rapture as what would become of him reached its culmination.

Enlightened, he screamed.

Violent was the howl torn from body, one that seemed to transcend its limits in a blaze. The fleeting cry guttered out, plunged into silence. The stillness that consumed the body was a peculiar disparity from the previous hysteria. However the process proceeded apace, unhindered and without surprise. Elidibus accepted the body’s durable acceptance rather than out-right rejection as progress.

“Breathe,” the Emissary urged and the body obeyed. Slow and steady breathing as new eyes cast around, taking note of all there was before fixating upon the white robes. As Elidibus lowered himself back into a crouch before the unmoving vessel, he met with the brilliance of blessed eyes. For a mere moment, he felt all that he was constrict under His gaze; unparalleled solace in a single look and were he permitted Elidibus could very well have drowned himself within the depths of it.

The iris’ original hue had been consumed in ascension, replaced by perfection, and Elidibus could not be bothered to recall the previous color. Dark and resplendent, the violet stare calculated and scrutinized before ultimately coming to soften upon the crimson mask. His gaze of recognition was reward enough.

Recollection eased into fondness, a warm smile spreading across the newly-wakened features. A soft sound, near enough to a breath and just as indistinct, parted his lips as he stirred into motion. Unbound and unrestrained, movement seemed foreign to the body, clumsy hands raised and brought forward in a bid to reach and touch yet discovered the Emissary out of his physical reach. Another breath, a sound of passing frustration, escaped the vessel. Despite the want that carved into his soul, Elidibus maintained observation.

Bare hands fell and smacked against the platform beneath, prompting a most curious jolt through the body. Fascination drawn from contact, splaying fingers across the crystalline surface and marveling at the cool, smooth surface. It came as no surprise that cruel imprisonment would lead onto fixation over the unfamiliar sensation; denied touch and denied feeling as he had. It was and would ever be an inexcusable crime, yet Elidibus set aside the resentment as the vessel moved once more.

From crystal onto flesh, his hands climbed the length of his thighs, examining the body in intimate detail. Palms brushing over blossoming bruises and fingertips pressing against shallow gouges, his inspection had barely begun yet every fleeting twitch and twinge drawn from muscles held his undivided glee. Tracing higher in want for more, there was no hesitation in the fingers that coiled around the stiffness between his thighs nor in the stroke that followed.

The swell of His aether, abrupt and staggering, coincided with the shuddering breath taken by the vessel. In momentary indulgence, Elidibus embraced the surge, submerging in the passion for the beat of a heart. Satisfaction oozed within His influence, a pleasure that readily translated into physical expression as the body tore his gaze from himself and back to Elidibus, violet eyes alight with unashamed delight. For all the tension that built to a peak within his form and poised to snap, Elidibus wondered by what blessing did he maintain his formalities, his restraint to resist the lure.

Loosening his grasp around his cock, the body entertained the notion of another pass even as he shuddered from the meager friction gained in returning his hand to the base. The idea was discarded, much to the Emissary’s conflicting relief and dismay. Resuming investigation deemed necessary, the vessel's hands abandoned needful flesh and roamed, boldly exploring the expanse of his torso. Similar attention was paid upon the lesions there, soft breaths rewarding each sting brought to surface by inquisitive fingers. Soon coming to discover the still-damp trail of blood at the dip of his collarbone, the vessel traced the path along his neck to the slowly seeping source.

He knew, fingers slowly fluttering against the puncture, meager hurt prompting a peculiar smile across the vessel’s face. He had watched, having bore witness to the indulgence Elidibus reaped from the vessel. His gaze did not falter nor soften, piercing into the crimson mask while fingers played along his neck, teasing the open wound. The vibrant gaze and innocuous smile paired together brought merely apprehension upon the Emissary, a simmering sense of unrepentant guilt. He did not move as the vessel briefly pressed fingers in with a soft hiss, staining the tips a deeper red. An errant thought, a voice neither his God’s nor his own, whispered the possibility of punishment for his greed; a pound of flesh to be paid for partaking of what belonged to Him, a fee for his impudence. Strangely, the notion did not alarm but instead intrigue.

_ How would He punish him? _ A terribly untoward thought to entertain and the concept of receiving discipline should have deterred it. Never would Elidibus disobey yet he found himself morbidly curious.  _ What recompense would He demand of him?  _ Red fingers drawn from the wound similarly pulled the Emissary from his reverie and the white-bound adherent did find smudged hands presented to him. A soundless bid from the vessel, an urging that sought to entice him closer; a lure he could not resist, a command he could not ignore.

Defiance was not his wont, despite any irresponsible speculation. Elidibus was upon his knees before the coax of His influence could grant further encouragement. It was welcomed regardless, fond sentiments brushing against him as he settled before the vessel, his knees pressing against others. Face to guarded face, the vessel’s eyes crinkled as the Emissary obeyed. His raised hands faltered just briefly, an odd tremor coursing through them before he reached out and found greater success in reaching for his follower.

Heavy-handed was the touch set upon him, the vessel smoothing his hand over Elidibus’ cheek. The singular exception, a satisfactory deviation from his established directive; none but his God may lay hands upon the Emissary. Vaguely he was aware of the blood that smeared his face in his God’s exploration, yet it did not dissuade him from leaning into the touch. It could very well have burned him.

“Cold,” the vessel remarked in a tongue beyond the original owner, a speech long since lost. It was the confirmation he required, albeit slow arriving as it was; His inhabitation was absolute. Elidibus closed his eyes as the hand lingered against his face, thumb straying the corner of his mouth.

“Elidibus,” his God called gently, a sweetness partnered with distance. He savored it, the thumb tracing across his lips in slow memorization. Again, his name was repeated and Elidibus turned his face into the hand, pressing lips against the palm. A soft hitch in breath did little to interrupt to unhurried repetition. Each affectionate addition coaxed him further from what little restraint he maintained.

The hand slipped, withdrawing in a brief lapse of silence and Elidibus opened his eyes, horrendously tempted to protest the loss. Instead he found Him peering at his arms, watching them intently. It took merely a moment for Elidibus to determine what He waited for, a flare of violet coursing through the veins before settling. He watched the vibrant hue skitter and spiderweb underneath the skin, a bitterness filling his mouth as the vessel proved inadequate after all. And yet Zodiark remained unmoved.

“Elidibus,” He urged, lacking urgency or disappointment, and received at once the adherent's focus. Regarding the crimson mask, He considered what would come next. Elidibus, willingly lost in His gaze, knew not what to expect when He spoke once more.

“We love you,” His God spoke distantly in recital, weighing out the words and then repeating stronger in clarity, “As do I, Elidibus, I love you.”

It was then his turn to make a peculiar noise, ripped from his chest in raw emotion that he had thought long forgotten. An impulsive, covetous urge guided his claws to score lines against the vessel's thighs, leaving reddened grooves in his path that Zodiark welcomed with a pleasant rumble.

The occupied body was graceless yet Elidibus found no fault within his God for such. He pitched forward abruptly, falling against and seeking contact, seeking gratification from his devoted follower and His Emissary readily obliged. A set of talons caught the vessel's side, finding purchase in soft flesh as he steadied Him. Further pain that merely derived pleasure, Zodiark accepted all physical sensations with delightful sounds.

All distance seemed too great for Zodiark, even the minuscule that remained between them as He flattened himself against white robes. He bent his head and sought out the crook of the Emissary's neck, burrowing His face there. Never mind the limited room allowed by his cowl; Zodiark would find space, would make space as necessary. Elidibus cared not, so entrenched as he was in His glory. He smoothed his claws from the body's side to cross His back and grip firmly His shoulder.

The prod of ornamental decoration could not dissuade when talons only thrilled the writhing figure. Intricate metal pierced and carved shallow marks against the wanting flesh, heedlessly adding more to the many that streaked the unconventional canvas. A particularly deep dig pulled a groan loose and stirred Zodiark into motion once more. He contorted his body in an odd angle to sate his desire for more without releasing what he had, resolved in keeping His face pressed against the side of His Emissary’s neck while clambering into his lap.

He was not sure if it was His God that rumbled in contentment or himself, yet Elidibus supposed it mattered not. He would ever welcome Him. A bit of adjustment, taking shape in his unoccupied claws finding delight in tracking the notches down the vessel's spine before spreading his palm flat against the base and pressing the body closer paired with one of his legs slotting between the vessel's thighs, and such meager change seemed to appease his God.

For as secure as he held Him, his God squirmed within his talons, welcoming the metal to hook deeper into His flesh with indecent whines. His influence was staggering, His hunger insatiable as His fingers clutched the once-pristine cloth He graciously stained crimson. A fleeting thought paid mind to the dark violet hue that thrummed just beneath the surface, burning rampant through fragile frame, and Elidibus wondered if the decaying vessel sparked the sharp rise in His passion due to the inability to contain. Proper hypothesis evaded him, muddled and intoxicated as he was in His embrace, pressure pushing down and weight pulling under. Sensations overwhelming, Elidibus knew he could have comfortably drowned.

Belatedly he recognized the ceaseless nuzzling stalled and found His hand releasing the fabric to blindly snake high towards his neck, the Emissary’s breath hitching in suspense. His fingers hooked under the high collar and pulled, exposing his throat to Him. The staggered breaths against his neck seized him, entranced by the nose brushing against the side of his jaw and rendering him to be willing prey before teeth and tongue. Painfully cautious, irritatingly tender, teeth grazed without purchase and Elidibus sought more yet knew not how to ask.

Desire turned desperate and Zodiark finally found a greater purpose for the thigh He rested against. Giving a slow jerk of His hips, savoring the friction it rewarded along the underside of his cock. Repetition formed in careless motion, grinding down upon the Emissary in abandon. Submerged in the raw ecstasy that oozed into His influence, Elidibus passed talons from the base of His spine and onto His hip, steadying the graceless movement. A passing protest, little more than a whine against his skin, and one he boldly dismissed in favor of correcting the motion. Claws dimpling the flesh in guidance, the slow roll he encouraged was first judged then eagerly accepted. Steady pace building from want and need, Elidibus discarded instructing to score another line of marks down His thigh.

He had not expected such a passionate reply; a sharp breath preceding the sudden plunge of teeth into his neck in pleasurable sensation. A claim made and released before Elidibus could properly sink his talons into writhing flesh, drawing forth a grateful hiss from the Emissary. He mourned the temporary sting, finding want in the dull mark left behind. By His influence, any wistful desire was swept clean, replaced by His own passion.

“Ours,  _ ours _ ,” He voiced amidst fervent pants and bites, leaving covetous marks along the Emissary’s neck. Elidibus murmured in assent, thoughts thrown into disarray with no regard paid to right them.

Breaking down, bleeding through, finding the fever pitch in transient existence, Zodiark pulled from Elidibus’ neck to see His adherent. His gaze, a precarious balance of bliss and desire, had seeped outwards, staining the whites a wondrous hue. Mesmerized as his God began to crest, his focus slid slowly from vibrant eyes to the sluggish wound. Amidst shallow breaths and cries, Elidibus inclined his head, pressing lips against his mark upon his God. His teeth caught the edge, aggravating the injury and exciting Zodiark.

A hitch in His breath accompanied the tension in His body, holding off and dragging out. Elidibus decided a push was required for the trembling flesh to give. Plunging in and biting down, he cared not for the taste but relished the strangled cry his God uttered as He came undone. A rough jerk of His hips as He spilled out against His Emissary’s thigh, rutting through completion. His pleasure sunk deep, piercing His adherent’s core and lending a shudder to his form.

“ _ Mine, _ ” Zodiark hissed, breathless and clutching the robes.

And the sentiment echoed as the Emissary bloodied his fangs, disinclined to release such a fine trophy.

The body sagged after a passing moment of stillness, tumbling down from the high with ragged breaths. Dead weight, receding influence, Elidibus withdrew out of necessity from His flesh as Zodiark waned and the vessel frayed at its seams; veins blessed, bleeding to the surface in violet cracks. Stained talons traced, Elidibus’ hands moving to cup and cradle the withering frame close in what dwindling time remained.

“We will be reunited,” his God whispered against his chest in rasping breath and thus it was Elidibus’ turn to bleed reassurances without hesitation.

“It will be so.  _ I will make it so _ .”

Zodiark tipped his head up. The smile that graced his God’s face held such haunting devotion; a transient expression which renewed, reinforced all vows he had come to utter in His name. His smile persisted after withdraw, radiant gaze fading into dimness. Elidibus held the body, finding the lack of His presence to weigh heavier than the peak of His fervor. In its dormant gaze, he felt nothing.

He let the corpse slip through his claws and rose in thoughtful silence. The outcome remained undesirable even with a promising vessel, although the process smoothed further in every attempt. It was a matter of time and the Emissary had excess. He turned towards another project yet paused.

With a final regard for the blessing-riddled corpse, the Emissary raised his hand in a wave, returning the body to nothingness. He supposed, licking the blood from his fangs, that there was yet some small beauty in the temporary.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> If you think this work can benefit from a tag being added, please leave a comment.
> 
> The Wheel (Is Turning Now) was a huge influence in determining Zodiark's relation to Elidibus and furthermore Elidibus' relation and dynamic with the sacrifice. It's where I shamelessly pulled the summary from.
> 
> Anyway this turned out weird, I have the sinking sensation that it grew out of hand but I wrote it nonetheless. I'm not exactly sorry for any of it I think


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